


There's so much more that you've never seen before

by samueltanders



Series: Your words in my memory are like music to me [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Episode: s04e02 Lifeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-06-30 08:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samueltanders/pseuds/samueltanders
Summary: It was almost instinct to go straight to her office after a mission.





	There's so much more that you've never seen before

It was almost instinct to go straight to her office after a mission. It was a routine they had. John would return from some planet with his team, head to the infirmary to get checked out and then return to Elizabeth’s office overlooking the gate room. They would discuss anything pertinent from the mission, anything that Elizabeth might need to know before his team was debriefed.

John played his part and sat in the seat he always took across the desk from where Elizabeth sat, usually working on some report or Ancient translation, the expectation that John would sit quietly until she was at a point she could break off. But this time was different, he sat in his chair and looked across to where she should be sat. Empty. He stared at the chair for a long while, almost willing her to manifest in front of him, to storm into the room shouting something about how reckless he was, how he could have got his whole team killed. The chair remained empty; the room quiet.

_You saved them all Elizabeth, The City,_ **_your_ ** _City is safe._

John closed his eyes and his mind conjured her face, screaming for him to leave, a look of resignation on her face. He felt sick. He knew it was the only way for them to get the ZPM back to the jumper and away from Asuras to save the City. There was no chance of escape if Elizabeth hadn’t been a distraction to Oberoth, but still, leaving her there alone, even under orders, made his stomach churn.

_We don’t leave our people behind._

A sudden wave of anger washed over him. Anger at Elizabeth for sacrificing herself, for forcing him to leave and at himself for listening to her orders and leaving her alone with the enemy. He wanted to rage, throw things against the walls, upend the entire office, the entire city.

He jumped up from his chair in anger and grabbed the nearest thing to hand, ready to throw it against the damn wall. His hand had grasped the terracotta pot that sat pride of place in the centre of Elizabeth’s desk. He looked down at it and turned it over in his hands. It was the first birthday present had given to her. He thought back to Elizabeth’s small smile when he gave her it, the questioning glint in her eye as she wondered how he had found out it was her birthday. He realised later how special it was to her when she had used it to store the ashes of her older, alternate self, before placing it at centre of her desk, pride of place for the past three years.

Looking at the pot, his anger melted into grief and suddenly tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. John glanced around Elizabeth’s office at the bowls, vases and artwork scattered around her office. All of them, he realised, were things he’d brought for her. After the first birthday gift, if he saw something while off world that he thought Elizabeth would like or that made him think of her, he would buy it and bring it back for her. Sometimes he would give her the item, hoping he would get to see that same smile as the first time, but more often, he would leave the gift on her desk. He would watch from the gate room as Elizabeth walked into her office to find another item had been placed on her desk. When she saw it, he always caught the little smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, her eyes quickly flicking to where she knew he was standing. It was never mentioned, but he knew Elizabeth could pick up one of the items and attach a mission log to it. He always wanted her to ask him why he kept bringing her things, but he knew she never would. She always just smiled at the new item, before looking to John, offering him the small, pleased and grateful smile that he craved for a mere second before it was gone from her face and she was Doctor Weir, leader of the Atlantis expedition again.

There was an invisible line that they had both straddled in the years they had been on Atlantis, but neither had the guts to cross. He realised now she was gone how stupid it was, to keep getting her gifts but never verbally tell her how he felt. That every gift he got her after the first was to see that small smile again or because he was off world somewhere thinking of her as he often did. John couldn’t recall when that had first started, but he couldn’t deny that she often occupied his thoughts, an almost permanent resident in his mind.

It was then he noticed an empty box in the corner of the room and the realisation hit him that this office was no longer Elizabeth’s, that whether she had come back from Asuras or not she would have been pushed out. It was what Elizabeth had feared, what she expected. Why else would Stargate Command send Colonel Carter to Atlantis, other than to take over the running of the City? The idea of someone else being in here rankled John. It was her space, their space. Where he allowed himself to look at her a little longer than he should, the one place where she would smile more openly with him, where their conversations were almost more than between two colleagues or friends.

John grabbed the box and started putting things in it. He had to be the one to do it, he decided. Someone else would just throw everything in a box and put it storage somewhere, or worse, throw it away. So, he carefully took each item from where Elizabeth had placed it and put it in the box. He left her desk while last. He picked up the pocket watch that had been her father’s and very carefully placed it in the box before reaching for the photo frame that housed a picture of her dog Sedgwick. The final item he placed in the box was the pot he gave her.

As he walked out of Elizabeth’s office with the box, he saw that the gate room was a hive of activity and suddenly he realised how open Elizabeth’s office was, with walls made of glass. Most likely, they had all seen his anger and his pain while he was in the office and he was sure it would get around the City. _Let them whisper,_ he thought. He didn’t much care what people thought of their relationship anymore.

Arriving back in his quarters John took the box and placed it in the corner of the room. Removing the lid, he took the pot that was lying on top of all the other items before replacing it to protect the things inside until they could be returned to her. As he placed the pot on his bedside table, John thought again of her smile when she received it, but his mind made her smile turn to screams and once again she was yelling at him to leave her. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes again as he picked up the pot, ready to put it back in the box in a vain attempt to keep that memory at bay. He thought better of it and placed the pot back down on the table, gazing at it. The pot represented Elizabeth he decided. Looking at it reminded him of her, when he woke every morning and saw it, he would remember her, and her memory would push him to carry on. More than that, he realised it was a reminder, a promise.

_I’ll find you, Elizabeth. If there is a chance, I’ll find you._


End file.
